


The Aftermath

by elizaye



Series: FWB!verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaye/pseuds/elizaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Lisa react to the latest development in Dean and Castiel's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Aftermath

“Well, you look happy today,” Sam says as Dean sits down across from him.

“Yeah, I’m great.  Coffee, black, thanks,” Dean adds to the waitress as she approaches.

“You sure that’s how you should be feeling right now?” Sam asks.

Dean sighs.  “She told you, didn’t she?”

“No,” Sam replies.  “She told Jess, and Jess told me.  Dude, don’t you think I should be hearing about this directly from you, Dean?”

“Nope.  Since when have I ever gone to you with relationship issues?”

“Well… yeah, but still.  A break-up is different.  Tell me you at least went and talked to Cas about this.”

“Yeah, of course.  First thing I did after I left Lisa’s was call him.”  As he finishes speaking, Dean can’t stop a grin from forming on his lips.

“Dean… I don’t like that look on your face.  What happened?”

Dean fully intends on deflecting the question, but the words just slip past his lips—“I fucked Cas last night.  Twice.  And again this morning.”

Sam’s jaw has dropped, and he looks mildly horrified.

Dean frowns and says, “Hey, what’s your problem?”

“I just—why?  You—you’re not even _gay_ , Dean.  Why would you—”

“Relax, Sam.  The world’s not gonna end just because I slept with a guy.  A really bendy guy.”

“Ugh!  I really didn’t need to know that, Dean,” Sam complains with a pinched look on his face.

Dean grins and sips the coffee that the waitress has just placed in front of him.  It’s a bit too hot, and he burns his tongue, but he’s too busy being amused by the look on Sam’s face to really care.

“So what are you guys, then?” Sam asks.

“Friends,” Dean says, like it’s obvious.  “Still friends.  Why would sex change anything?”

“Well… how does Cas feel about it?”

“He’s fine with it.  Friends who get to have sex too—that’s awesome.  I shoulda tried gay sex earlier.  I’m telling you, Sammy—”

“Don’t!” Sam protests loudly, and several heads turn in the diner.  Dean chuckles and goes back to his coffee, and Sam ducks his head, nursing his girly, iced drink.

They’re silent for a few minutes, and Dean’s just waiting for all the cogs to finish turning in Sam’s head, because he just _knows_ his little brother’s gonna have problems with just accepting this.

“You _sure_ about this?” Sam says finally.  “I mean, Cas has been your friend for a _long_ time.  You sure that this won’t change _anything?_ ”

“Yeah, I’m sure.  The only difference is I get to tap that ass.  It’s all good, Sammy.”

Sam eyes him doubtfully and says, “You’re hopeless, Dean.”  After a brief pause, Sam groans.  “Ugh, I’m about to go to Cas’s office hours.  Last thing I need is a mental image of you and him, _together_.”

“Together, what?  Us together, having bendy, sweaty, writhing—”

Sam cuts Dean off by clapping his hands over his ears and humming loudly, and Dean has to laugh at how childish the reaction is.

“Dean…”

“What?” Dean asks, still grinning widely.

“You suck, asshole.”

“I haven’t gotten around to trying that yet, but I’m sure I can persuade Cas to let me give it a shot.”

Sam makes a strangled sound and proceeds to look scandalized.

“Oh, this is going to be _great_ ,” Dean says.

“I’m outta here,” Sam replies as he gets to his feet.  “God, I think I’m scarred for life.”  He starts walking away, but then he turns back and asks, “It really isn’t weird?  At all?  I mean, you dated two of his close friends, and now—”

“Cas and I aren’t dating, Sam.  It’s not weird.”

Sam frowns.  “Yeah.  Sure.  If you say so.  ‘Kay, I’m out.”

“See you.”

* * *

Castiel’s staring blankly at the paper in front of him.  _The Wonders of Ancient Roman Art_ , it’s titled, but the student hasn’t managed to convey any wonder at all in the five pages required for this assignment.

But that may not be the student’s fault—Castiel’s more than slightly distracted from his task.  His mind keeps flashing back to Dean.  Dean’s pretty lips stretched wide around his cock.  Dean’s low voice that dropped even lower as he neared the end.  Dean’s face, slack with orgasm as he slowed his thrusts, pumping his come into Castiel.

Fuck, Castiel needs this hour to be over so he can get the hell out of here.  It’s his own fault, he supposes, for scheduling his office hours for Sunday mornings, but he’s so busy during the week that there’s just no time to set aside for students.

A rap on the door drags Castiel out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see Sam standing in the doorway, looking down at him.

“Sam.  Come on in,” Castiel says with a smile.  He notices that Sam’s eyes linger at his neck for a moment and resists the urge to fidget.  Sam also looks uncomfortable, which really can mean only one thing.  “I suppose you already know,” Castiel says—he’s never been one to beat around the bush.

Sam flushes, eyes flicking up to meet Castiel’s, and he nods.  “Yeah, Dean told me.”

“Somehow I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut,” Castiel says.

“I’m uh,” Sam pauses to clear his throat, “I’m fine with it.  If that helps.”

Castiel shrugs.  “It’s not anything meaningful, so you don’t have to worry.”

“No, um.  No, that’s the exact reason why I should be worried,” Sam contradicts.

Castiel frowns.  Sam can’t possibly—he doesn’t _know_ , does he?  “We’re at my office hours, Sam.  Ask what you came to ask,” Castiel says, changing the subject.

Sam’s expression tightens a bit, but he relents and takes the seat across from Castiel.  “I was wondering if you could take a look at the outline for my paper.  And the thesis,” he says, digging into his backpack.

“Sure,” Castiel says, setting aside the paper he hasn’t been able to grade.

Really, it’s unfair for him to be grading anything in this state.

Sam produces a slightly crinkled paper and hands it over.  “What else are you TA-ing for?” he asks, glancing at the stack of ungraded papers on Castiel’s desk.

“Ancient Greek and Roman Architecture.”

“Oh, I loved that one,” Sam says.  “Woulda been better if you were TA, though.  We had a moron the semester I took it.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t a moron,” Castiel says, smiling, as he looks over the thesis statement.

After a brief discussion on the ethics of keeping relics from other ancient societies in Western museums, Sam takes his outline back.

“Thanks, Cas.  It always helps to talk to you.”

“No problem,” Castiel replies, picking up the abandoned paper.  But Sam lingers in the doorway, so Castiel says, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I just… be careful, Cas.”

Castiel decides to try to play it off—“Don’t worry, Sam.  I won’t hurt your brother.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” Sam says pointedly, and fuck, he does know.

“It’ll be fine,” Castiel says.  “Nevertheless, thank you for your concern.”

Sam smiles tightly.  “Yeah, no problem.  I’ll see you later, Cas,” he says as he backs out of Castiel’s office.

“Goodbye, Sam.”

As soon as Dean’s brother is gone, Castiel relaxes slightly.  Apparently Sam knows, or at least has a hunch, that Castiel may have more feelings toward Dean than he lets on.

Castiel considers giving Sam a call—after office hours, of course—to get a clear answer on that.  Besides, the last thing he wants is Sam telling Dean about it in an attempt to protect Castiel’s feelings.  But all that would accomplish is make Dean feel guilty for something that’s really Castiel’s problem, so… it wouldn’t be fair.

Yes, he should talk to Sam about this.  But first, papers.  Castiel sighs.

* * *

Dean sits at the kitchen table at home, leaning back in his chair lazily.  He’s in a dark blue t-shirt and boxers, ‘cause he was too lazy to look for pants when he woke up.

Distantly, he hears the large front door of their home slam shut and frowns.  It’s Monday, and Sam should be in class right now so…

“Cas?” he calls out hopefully.

But then Lisa stalks into the kitchen, and Dean deflates.

“So it’s Cas, huh?  You are _such_ a liar.”

“Liar?  I haven’t—”

“You couldn’t have said at some point— _any_ point—in our relationship, that you were gay?”

Dean rolls his eyes.  “It’s not as though I really knew myself.  It didn’t hit me ‘til about two weeks ago.  What was I s’posed to say?  ‘Sorry Lise, but I think I might like dick a lot more now than I did at the start of this relationship.’”  Lisa cringes at this.  “Who told you, anyway?” Dean asks as an afterthought.  “If Sam said anything—”

“It wasn’t Sam.  I had lunch with Cas yesterday.”

Dean can’t stop his eyebrows from lifting in surprise.  “Cas—”

“Yes, Cas told me.  I know you’ve been all buddy-buddy with him for a few years, but don’t forget that he and I practically grew up together.”

Dean nods.  “Yeah, I know.”

It _is_ too easy for him to forget about that, since he hardly ever sees them together anymore.  And then he realizes that Cas and Lisa never get together without—

“Yes, Anna was there, too,” Lisa says, guessing Dean’s train of thought.

Dean groans.  “Fantastic.”

“Isn’t it?”

Dean hasn’t seen Anna for years, not since she moved off to some small town in the middle of nowhere that’s about a three hour drive away.  He tries not to think about the reason why she had to leave.

“I’m sorry, Lise.  I—”

“It’s fine.  You and I weren’t gonna be forever anyway, and it was fun while it lasted.  I’m not here to get an apology.”

And yeah, that sounds like the Lise he knows, all right.  “So why are you here?”

“Well first off, I just wanted to know why you couldn’t say anything about this two nights ago, when you broke it off.”

Dean shrugs.  “I just… I don’t know.  I guess I wasn’t ready to tell you.”

Lisa huffs, but there’s a hint of amusement in her eyes, so Dean knows they’re okay.  And then Lisa’s saying, “Cas insists that you guys have some sort of an arrangement, with rules and everything.  But I—Anna and I—both think you should put a stop to it, before one of you guys gets hurt.  I mean, you and Anna started off so great, and look what happened.”

“Hey, it wasn’t all my fault.”

“I never said it was.”

“Then stop acting like it.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything.  Calm down.”

“I _am_ calm, damn it.”

Lisa sighs.  “Look, Cas, Anna, and I were… the best of friends, before you came along.  And I just… we’re finally able to be around each other again, Anna and I, and we don’t wanna have to go through the same shit with Cas.”

“You’re kidding, right?  You and Anna made up last year.  And Cas and I—totally different from you and me.”

“Not the point, Dean.”

“Then get to the point.”

“I just wanted to tell you that if you’re really gonna keep this up, you’d better not hurt Cas, because I’ve already had to watch Anna move out to the middle of nowhere to escape you, and I’m not about to lose Cas, too.”  Dean opens his mouth to speak, but Lisa holds up a finger before going on, “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t care how casual you think this is.  Have you ever successfully pulled off a sex-only relationship?  Never mind, don’t answer that, Mr. Love-‘em-and-leave-‘em.”

“Lisa—”

Her phone goes off, and she says, “That’s my alarm—I’ve gotta go.  Just… Cas is like our baby brother.  You’re not _allowed_ to break his heart.”

“I won’t—what even—” Dean splutters, but Lisa’s already out of the kitchen, and Dean’s too lazy to chase her down and explain what she doesn’t understand.  As long as Dean and Cas are clear, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks… right?

Dean gets to his feet and stretches languidly before heading over to the first floor sitting room—he remembers leaving his phone there.  He’s on the couch, about to call Cas, when his phone rings.

“Dad?” Dean says.

“Dean.  I won’t be coming home this week, after all—too much work got piled up, and—”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Dean cuts him off.  He’s been expecting this phone call.  Dad never wants to come home, and that’s fine.  Dean’s _fine_ with it.

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s fine.  We’re both fine.”

“Good.”

There’s a brief silence, and then Dean says, “Y’know, you’ve been out at the Florida office for two months already.  How ‘bout Sam and I fly down there to visit you?”

“Doesn’t Sam have school?”

“Sure, but there’s something called the weekend.”

“I’d appreciate that, Dean,” Dad says gruffly, and Dean knows that he’s trying to hide his emotions.  Typical.

Then again, Dean can’t really talk—he’s got a habit of avoiding touchy feely talks, too.  “I’ll talk to Sam about it when he gets home,” he says.

“Good.”

The conversation feels over, so Dean says, “I’ve gotta go now.  I’ll give you a call later.”

“Yeah.  Thank you, Dean.”

“Bye, Dad.”

“Bye.”

Dean hangs up and stares at the phone for a long minute.

He can guess at how Dad must feel whenever he returns to this town, even if they’re rich now, and living in a different house, a different part of town.  But feeling shitty about the place doesn’t give Dad an excuse to just stay away indefinitely.  Of course, it doesn’t help that Sam’s always antagonizing him.

Dean shakes his head and pulls up Cas’s number.  Dude better not be busy tonight.


End file.
